Page 21 of Seaside Cowboy's Fairy Tale

The girls increased the volume.

As the waitress took the newcomer’s orders, his heart sank to the wooden deck planks. What if Cinderella wasn’t going to show up? She’d called him from a blocked number, so he couldn’t even call her back. Maybe it was best. After all, a mysterious stranger could be deceitful like his first love had been.

His crushing heart didn’t want to listen to reason. He glanced at his Rolex watch. Had only five minutes passed? It seemed like an eternity.

Then everything in him brightened at the sight of her. This time, she didn’t wear a stunning lavender-hued evening gown, sparkling jewelry, or expensive shoes like at the ball. She was dressed in faded jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and scuffed sneakers. Her once-again blonde hair flowed over her stiff shoulders from under a gray cap and was slightly messy. The gusting wind added to that messiness.

It all suited her more than her attire at the charity ball and therefore made her even more attractive. The Cinderella from the ball had been something from a fairy tale indeed, something made up, like a figment of the imagination, and not that of his own. The woman walking toward him was very much real. Falling in love with a fairytale heroine wouldn’t make sense. But falling in love with this woman would be all too easy.

She scanned the entire place before moving forward, then walked fast and with purpose while her right hand stayed in her battered purse that clearly had seen better times. She must carry a gun in her purse.

Her eyes were guarded, but they lit up when she saw him. Her smile was her best—and only—decoration, and she didn’t need any others. Some people wore diamonds, and some peoplewerediamonds. Surely, she was the latter.

Everything in him cheered up when he stood to greet her, though a sting twinged him when she dodged from his hug. But then, he might be moving too fast. “Thank you for being here.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Her lips widened, but he wanted to erase the apprehension behind that smile. She seemed to worry about something. Probably several things.

Which brought back the question that needled and sent a shot of worry through him. Why all the secrecy? He wouldn’t like the answer, would he? He was a practical man, and what he was doing now was anything but. Yet, he couldn’t look away.

They ordered drinks that arrived surprisingly fast.

Once the waitress left, Cinderella leaned forward. “Feels unusual, right?”

“I haven’t dated anyone like you before.” He sipped his raspberry tea.

“Thanks. I meant that we’ve been here several minutes already, and nobody has tried to shoot at us yet.” Her gaze darted over the deck then at the windows into the restaurant interior. She didn’t seem to consider the old man and little girls a threat, so her gaze returned to him.

She sure was unique.

He cleared his throat. “Erm, I’m not complaining.”

“I understand why someone wouldn’t want to get caught with a stolen necklace and would shoot at me. But why would anyone aim at you?” Her eyes probed him, and that luminous smile disappeared.

Was this a work lunch for her instead of a date, after all? A twist in his gut wrung the joy from his being. She did have a point in asking the question, though. If bullets were going to fly around him, she had to be prepared. He should commend her for showing up, considering the circumstances.

Instead, he said the words he didn’t say often. “I don’t know exactly.” He’d thought about it already and been asked by the police, so he went with what he’d come up with then. “I have competitors. I’ve done mergers some businesspeople might not like. I’ve had to fire inefficient employees. While I don’t think anyone would take disgruntlement as far as to shoot me, one never knows.”

“Anyone in particular?” Her hazel eyes studied him.

“I have a competitor named Fred Sersen who seems to have a grudge against me. But he wasn’t in the vicinity of the charity ball.”

“Someone he hired could’ve been. Do you have a will?” She brought her iced lemon tea to her lips.

It drew his attention to her mouth again, sending a shot of awareness at the desire to kiss her. He shifted his gaze to her eyes. Could he hope he affected her as much as she affected him? Oh, she’d asked him something.

Her question was direct, and he answered as such. “I do. One-third goes to my mother, and the rest is divided equally between my brothers. Before you ask, I have an amazing family.” Though he didn’t see them often. Ironic, wasn’t it?

“I, um, had someone run the silver SUV’s license plate. As I expected, it was fake.” Her lips pressed tight, saying what she thought of that. Then she sipped her amber liquid.

Hmm, she had police connections. She was getting more and more interesting, and she was extremely interesting to start with. The woman could catch attention and keep it forever.

However, he didn’t do forever. He’d learned his lesson with Madison.

Was it weird that he was more concerned about whether she liked him than about whether someone had tried to kill him? Probably. But he wasn’t convinced the people in the silver SUV were going to shoot. He might not have been their target at all. The days since then had been quiet with no suspicious activities. He had manydefinitesto worry about and no need to waste his energy onmaybes.

He reminded himself he should be an upstanding citizen and said what he should’ve after they’d chased the silver SUV. “You were a witness to a crime. You should go to the police and give the perpetrator’s description. I know I said we have cameras, but the two facing the exit stopped working. So the police don’t have footage of the crime. Vanya Patel, the theft victim, gave a description but was too shaken up to work with the artist.”

A muscle moved in her jaw. “I’ve already talked to the police and worked with an artist to make a portrait. My guess is that the guy’s beard and mustache was a disguise. But I can’t be sure, of course. I didn't get a chance to get a good look at him before he ran.”

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